


Loki's Curse

by sharkie335



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Frottage, LadyHawk mashup, Loki is a dick, M/M, Magic Curses, Winterhawk Reverse Big Bang, winterhawk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-28 17:02:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20067490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkie335/pseuds/sharkie335
Summary: Clint and Bucky are happy together, so of course something has to go wrong.  Loki shows up, still angry about his failure to conquer Earth and blaming Clint.  And the movie they're watching on TV gives him the idea for the perfect curse.





	Loki's Curse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amberdreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amberdreams/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Loki's Curse](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20078821) by [Amberdreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amberdreams/pseuds/Amberdreams). 

> Based on the absolutely gorgeous artwork by Amberdreams, located [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20078821). Go, look, admire, leave love!
> 
> Warning - this fic is not sympathetic to Loki. It's not bashing, per se, but he is a villian.
> 
> Based vaguely on [LadyHawke](https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0089457/?ref_=nv_sr_1?ref_=nv_sr_1), but you don't have to have seen the movie to have it make sense. 
> 
> QueenMaeve did a lot of cheerleading on this, and she did a beta on it along with seleneheart. I didn't follow all of their advice, so any mistakes are my own fault!

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/housefullofbooks/48433732861/in/dateposted/)

Clint leaned back in the corner of the large couch, Bucky tucked up against him. He was idly watching _Ladyhawke_, one of his favorite movies, and combing his fingers through Bucky's hair as they cuddled together. Bucky was humming softly, clearly content with his position and the touch.

They'd been invited to the common area for dinner, but Bucky's day had pretty much sucked, so they'd opted to stay in and order take out. Days like today, when the court-ordered psychiatrists stuck their fingers in Bucky's brain and pulled it apart, Bucky could barely tolerate Clint or Steve, much less the crowd of superheroes that lived in Stark tower.

Clint knew that Bucky was still required to go to therapy. They'd demonstrated that his triggers had been overcome and that the therapy didn't do a damn thing to help, but the government insisted. He always came back drawn, shoulders hunched in on themselves, his eyes tight.

The whole situation pissed Steve right the hell off, his fists clenched as he escorted Bucky back to the apartment. Truth be told, it pissed off Clint, too. But Bucky didn't argue or put up a fuss, and in the face of that, what could they do but just be there when he was recovering from it?

Privately, Clint didn't see a lot of difference between what Hydra had done to Bucky and what the US government was doing. He never voiced that out loud, though. It wouldn't help things at all, and would probably get Steve ranting again. That was definitely less fun than it sounded.

Bucky nuzzled against Clint's arm. "You getting comfortable or using my arm to scratch your nose?" Clint asked with a grin that he didn't really have to force. Knowing that Bucky found comfort in his touch was as much a balm to Clint as it seemed to be to Bucky.

"Just thinking we might move to the bedroom," Bucky said, his voice low and soft.

That made Clint raise his eyebrows. Bucky never wanted anything more than cuddles on therapy days. "You tired already?" he asked.

_Those_ were definitely Bucky's lips against his bicep. "Nope," he said, popping the p at the end. "I just thought it would be more comfortable for what I have in mind."

"Just what do you have in mind?" Clint asked, as if there was any doubt with the way that Bucky was now sucking on a bit of skin.

"I was thinking you might fuck me." 

Clint's brain went momentarily offline. It was unusual for Bucky to want to bottom, and every time was even more memorable for it. But this whole situation was just... weird. "You - what's going on in your head, Bucky?"

Bucky twisted in his arms to meet his eyes. "I'm thinking about how grateful I am that I get _this_ instead of a jail cell," he said. "It's worth talking to some shrink twice a week if I get to be with my best friend and my best guy."

That was so different than where Clint's thoughts had been that it took him a moment to put it together. "I... guess? I thought you hated therapy."

"Oh, I do." Bucky shrugged under his arm. "But we talked today about some of the other things that could have happened. I could have been sent to the Raft or killed or still be trapped with Hydra. So, talking to someone about my feelings? Eh, no big deal in that context."

Clint nodded. "Fair enough, and yeah, it could be worse. Still doesn't explain the sudden urge for sex."

Bucky chuckled. "I just feel like getting laid. Does that really need explanation?"

Well, Bucky said it like _that_. "And again, valid point. Okay, you want to move to the bedroom, let's do it. You've got to stand up first, though."

Grumbling a little, Bucky stood up, and then held out a hand to pull Clint up from the couch. As soon as Clint was on his feet, the lights in the apartment went out all at once.

Even with his excellent vision, Clint couldn't see a damn thing. There should have at least been light coming in through the windows if it was some sort of power outage, but it was pitch black. "Bucky?" Clint asked, nervously, his hand clenching tight around Bucky's.

"Yeah." Bucky's voice was shaking too, and it actually made Clint feel better. It wasn't just him. 

He tried to pull his hand away from Bucky's, only to realize that he couldn't let go. Before he could panic over it, there was a sudden flare of sickening green light, and as he squinted in the glare, he could make out a familiar shape. "Loki," he breathed out.

"Barton." Loki's voice went right to Clint's gut and twisted unpleasantly. "It's been a long time. I see some things have changed."

"Clint?" Bucky asked, his hand tightening slightly. "What the -

"I thought you were in Asgardian prison," Clint said, cutting right over top of Bucky. He was having to work hard not to hyperventilate or panic, but he was realizing that he couldn't move at all, and that was _terrifying_.

Loki was backlit with the green light, but somehow Clint could _feel_ him smirking. "Ah, yes. Prison. That was your doing as well."

"Pretty sure whatever happened to you was your own fault, pal," Bucky said, bravado laced through his words. "Not Clint's fault that you relied on an army that couldn't cope with six people."

"It shouldn't have been six," Loki snarled. "It wouldn't have been _any_ if he'd done his job correctly. He failed, and it's time that he paid the price."

The TV came back on with a suddenness that startled Clint, and the scene where Isabeau turned into a hawk as she fell from the tower played. Loki chuckled. "This seems a fitting retribution," he said, gesturing towards the tv. 

"What do you mean? Forcing us to watch eighties movies?" Clint said, but he was afraid of where this might be going.

Loki didn't answer. Instead, he waved his hands in a complicated gesture, and even as Clint tried to grip Bucky's hand tighter, it slipped away, changing in shape, as he shrunk and hunched over. Within seconds, instead of Bucky, there was a large white wolf, one leg incongruously made out of overlapping metal plates. 

While Clint was still trying to make his brain kick into gear, the wolf turned its face towards Loki and growled, low and vicious. It gave Clint a little relief to see that the sound made Loki startle. It was also a sign that hopefully, Bucky was still in there and aware of the situation, unlike Navarre or Isabeau. 

Loki turned attention away from the wolf - _Bucky_ \- and said, "I suspect you know how this story goes, my little hawk. However, unlike the evil doer in your simplistic Midgardian story, I will not be here on earth. I wish you much luck in both being able to stand in front of me together."

The wolf's growling translated to action, as it leapt forward, only to have Loki disappear as if he'd never been there. Only then did the lights come back on, and Clint realize that there was banging on the door and raised voices. 

Clint sat down on the couch, feeling shaky and terrified, but when the wolf pushed into Clint's hand with his muzzle, he realized that he had to stay strong. This had to be even worse for Bucky. 

The door to the apartment burst open, and the entire team flooded in. Tony was in his full suit, but Steve was in sweats and a t-shirt, with his shield over his arm. Everyone else was in some state in-between. "Where is he?" Natasha demanded. "FRIDAY reported Loki was here - where is he, Clint?"

"And where's Bucky?" Shit, that was Steve's "Captain America" voice, which meant if Loki had still been there he would have gotten a shield to the face. Steve didn't handle his people getting hurt calmly, and while Clint still occasionally had his doubts about his place on the team, Bucky was definitely one of Steve's people.

Clint couldn't actually seem to make his vocal cords work, so he just motioned to the wolf, which had circled around to face the team. It wasn't growling, but it looked anything but relaxed. Clint rubbed one hand over his eyes, and the other over the wolf's shoulder. 

"Barton, explain. Now," Steve ordered, and at that tone of voice, Clint had no choice but to try.

"Loki's getting revenge for failing to take over Earth," he said. "He's apparently been reduced to taking inspiration from human movies."

"Human mov - " Steve started to say.

But Natasha must have noticed the tv screen. "Ladyhawke, really? You've got to be kidding me."

Clint just gestured to the massive wolf still standing in front of him. "I assume when the sun comes up, you'll have Bucky back, and I'll be a birdbrain in reality," he said, not bothering to hide his bitterness.

Because, yeah, he knew how to solve this, but Loki had been right. He didn't exactly live on Earth, and it was a good bet that he wasn't on Asgard either. Which meant the chances of bringing him back at the right time were something between slim and none. And slim was probably out of town.

"Someone want to explain to me what's going on?" Steve asked, his voice artificially calm. "Because what I'm seeing is my best friend is gone and now there's a wolf, and it's... what? Based on some movie?"

Tony's helmet retracted, and he stepped forward. "I'll let you read the IMDb entry for the full synopsis later, Rogers. Short story, two lovers, one cursed to be a wolf at night, one cursed to be a hawk during the day. The only way to fix it was to face the person that cursed them when they were both human..."

"Which was during an eclipse," Natasha picked up from there, and for a moment, Clint was amused. Who knew that forcing Natasha watch eighties movies under the excuse of helping her acclimate to the US would be useful?

"Right. And unlike the Bishop, it's not just a matter of breaking into a locked church, but rather a way to summon Loki here to Earth at just the right time," Clint finished. He clenched his hand into a tight fist, resisting the urge to just punch something, _anything_. Under his other hand, the wolf nuzzled closer, making soft whimpering sounds.

"Well, the first thing to figure out is whether Bucky is really Bucky when he's like this. If I remember the movie right, the wolf and the hawk had no knowledge of themselves as humans," Bruce said, his voice calm. "The rest of it can wait for a few minutes."

"How exactly do you intend to do that?" Steve said, stepping forward and in between Bruce and Bucky. 

Bruce let out a sigh. "I'm not going to hurt him, Steve. I'm pretty sure we can figure out some way to communicate. And I'd rather do it here and now, so we know what to expect tomorrow morning, when Clint is a hawk. Bucky is at least calm. A wild hawk is going to be anything but, trapped inside."

Bucky licked a path up Clint's arm and then stepped away, very deliberately walking around Steve and stood facing Bruce. His ears were back, his tail tucked down, and he was panting slightly, but he didn't move away when Bruce crouched down. "Hi, Bucky," Bruce said. "I'm going to ask you some simple yes/no questions, okay? Bark once if yes, bark twice if no. Do you understand?"

Wolf-Bucky barked once.

"Good. Is your name Bucky?" 

_Bark_.

Bruce shot an apologetic look at Clint. "Did Loki do this to you to get even with Clint?" 

This bark was clearly annoyed. 

"Does anything hurt?" Bruce asked, and Clint leaned forward. He should have thought of that.

Two barks, and Clint relaxed a little. This whole situation was a nightmare, but he didn't think he could have taken it if Bucky was in pain as well as not in the right shape.

Steve stepped forward, then crouched down near Bruce. "Do you remember me, Bucky?"

Wow, Clint didn't know that wolves could use body language to make you feel like they'd just rolled their eyes at you. Under other circumstances, he would have found it funny as hell. 

_Bark_

"Do you want to stay here or in my apartment?" Steve asked without looking away from Bucky.

Clint shot to his feet. "Hey! This is Bucky's home, Steve." Then he stopped, because Bucky was backing away from Steve, until he was pressed against Clint's legs, growling softly. 

Steve didn't seem to take offense at it. In fact, he chuckled a little as he stood back up. "Definitely Bucky in there," he said. "Always too stubborn for his own good."

"I thought you were okay with us," Clint asked, a little hurt. This whole night seemed surreal, as if he was going to wake up any moment, but this - that Steve didn't approve his best friend being with carnie trash - was a nightmare that was more true to life than anything else.

Steve shot him a look. "I am, Clint. But it's going to be hard on both of you like this until we come up with a plan. And Bucky has had enough time with no options, right?"

Clint took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Steve had a point. Once again, Bucky had had something done to him, without his consent, and if he didn't want to stay, he should be allowed to go. "It's okay, Bucky - if you want to stay with Steve for a few days, it's fine." He was pretty proud of himself - he sounded almost calm.

Bucky turned to look at him, and licked his hand, before sitting down on Clint's feet. His tail wagged along the floor, and Clint couldn't help but chuckle a little - it tickled on his bare toes.

"Yeah, I'm definitely satisfied," Steve said. "Bruce?"

"Yes, it certainly seems that that's Bucky in there, and not a wild animal," Bruce agreed. "As far as I can tell, anyway, since I'm not exactly a psychiatrist."

"Finally," Tony said, stomping forward in his suit. "Now let me look at that leg, to make sure that it's going to function right. It wasn't designed to be a paw, and I'd love to know how Loki did that."

The whole room went silent and stared at Tony. Clint wasn't sure about anyone else, but he was staring because he was amazed at just how clueless Tony could be about _people_.

The armor collapsed into the suitcase, and Tony knelt a few feet in front of Bucky, still oblivious to the quiet in the room. If Tony managed to further upset Bucky, Clint was going to pack both of them up and move them out.

But Tony surprised the hell out of him. Instead of grabbing at Bucky, Tony's hands were on his own thighs. "Hey, Buckster. Can I just check out that leg to make sure that the conversion didn't leave it with weaknesses?"

Bucky actually nodded, taking a couple of steps forward and lifting up his metal paw for Tony to look at. It was as if everyone in the room let out their breath at once. Tony looked around, an expression of mild hurt on his face. "Jeez, not like I'm going to make the situation worse, okay?"

"We know," Bruce said. "It's just that - "

"You have all the tact of plank of wood, Stark," Steve said, but he sounded a little amused. 

Clint didn't find any of this amusing. Clint didn't want anyone _else_ to find it amusing either. Loki had managed to fuck up his life, once again, and if he'd been within reach, Clint would have happily stabbed him through the eye with one of his arrows.

Plus, in a few hours, he was going to change into a hawk, and while he liked birds, he didn't want to _be_ one, dammit.

Tony stood up, shaking his head. "Well, I'll be damned how it was done, but the metal paw should work well enough to not cause any issues at night," he said. 

Bucky immediately headed for Clint, once again sitting at his feet and nuzzling at his hand. Without thinking, Clint scratched Bucky behind his ears. "You know," he said, trying to keep his voice light, "when I said we should get a dog, this was _not_ what I was thinking of."

Bucky made a sound that had to be the wolf equivalent of a laugh. He had no idea how Bucky was taking things this well, but he could hardly tell him that he should be freaking out more - Clint seemed to have a lock on that. Bucky licked Clint's hand, and then started to push against Clint's legs using his bulk.

Clint hadn't realized till just now how _big_ Bucky was like this, as he was forced back towards the couch. When the cushions pressed into the back of his knees, he sat, only for Bucky to jump up on the couch, circle once, and then flop down with his head on his thigh. Clint let his hand rest on Bucky's head, and tried not to think about what was going to happen tomorrow.

"Okay, folks," Bruce said, and Clint re-opened his eyes. He'd almost forgotten that the team was still there. "It's been a rough evening for Clint and Bucky, and it's going to be difficult until we can figure out a solution. I'll come back at sunrise to check that everything is... well, that nothing more surprising happened. In the meantime, let's let them rest."

There were soft murmurs among them - Natasha wanted a guard set on the room, Steve seemed reluctant to leave - but Bruce with his mind made up was a force to be reckoned with, and within a few minutes, it was just Clint and Bucky, still on the couch.

"Not the way that the evening was supposed to go," Clint said, letting a little of his frustration over his inability to _fix this_ bleed through. He resumed scratching behind Bucky's ears, grateful that Bucky seemed open to the touch. He needed it more than he thought possible. 

Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes again, and tried not to think about the morning, his upcoming transformation, or his inability to think of a plan to force Loki to come back. They'd find a solution. The Avengers always did.

***

Bucky woke up on the couch, curled up and a little disoriented, only to have the memories of the evening before slam into him like a freight train. Sitting bolt upright, he realized that he was being stared at by a large hawk that was perched on the arm of the couch. "Clint?" he croaked out, only to have the hawk tip its head and make a high pitched squawking noise.

Bucky didn't laugh. It nearly killed him, but he didn't laugh. 

As if Clint could read his mind, he carefully turned around until he was facing away from Bucky, his head tucked low. Bucky sighed. "I know, Clint," he said. "But that tiny sound coming from such a fierce looking bird - you have to admit it's kinda funny."

Clint's squawk was clearly indignant, and that confirmed in Bucky's head that Clint was in there, but he remembered the team wanting to make sure he understood what was going on. "FRIDAY?" he said.

"The team is on its way," she responded, and Bucky sighed. It was about to get very loud in here. 

Leaning forward, he ran his hand down Clint's back, feeling the slick feathers under his fingers. "You ready for this?"

Clint turned back around and jumped down on the couch, walking forward until he was up on Bucky's knee. His eyes met Bucky's with an unblinking stare that got right under Bucky's skin. They were going to find a way to fix this. He was not living the rest of his life without touching Clint.

There was a tentative knock at the door, but Bucky didn't stand up. He just said, "Let 'em in, FRIDAY."

The whole team came pouring in through the door again, but this time they weren't armed and they were dressed. And this time it was Sam who stepped to the front. "I'm just going to check in with Clint, one bird to another," he said to Bucky. "Then we're going to lay out some ideas that we came up with last night."

It didn't surprise Bucky that the team hadn't just gone on their merry way last night, but he did kind of feel left out - Clint was still human at the time, and Bucky had demonstrated that he knew what was going on. Before he could say anything, though, Steve said, "We figured that the two of you needed to get your heads wrapped around what was happening, and we could do some of the preliminary legwork. Get the basics down, so that the two of you didn't have to worry about those."

Phrased like that, Bucky had to admit that Steve had a point. He gave a sharp nod, his eyes on Sam who was approaching Clint cautiously. "Hey, Hawkeye," Sam said. "Just like with Bucky - one call for yes, two for no, okay?"

Clint gave another of those high-pitched squawks, and Bucky glared at everyone. If a single person laughed at Clint while he was like this - 

But none of them did. Bucky decided not to make an issue of the way that Natasha rubbed her fingers over her mouth, clearly hiding a smile. If there was anyone in the room who could get away with it, it was her. Besides, Clint would probably be mad if Bucky tried to get even.

"Do you know who you are?"

One squawk.

"Do you love arrows?"

Clint tipped his head on the side and gave a loud, indignant squawk.

Natasha jumped in, stepping forward to peer around Sam. "Do you remember Budapest?"

The squawk was much softer, and Bucky had no idea that hawks could sound sad. 

"I'm satisfied," Natasha said. "He knows who he is."

"You know," Steve said. "One of these days we're going to get that story out of you."

Natasha gave him a funny little smile. "No, Cap, you won't." 

Tony snorted from the side of the group. "You know he's going to get it out of Clint if he doesn't get it out of you," he said. "Clint's a sucker for Cap's puppy eyes."

Bucky couldn't help it. Maybe it was the absurdity of the situation, maybe it was the fact that he had absolutely no idea how they were going to fix this, maybe he was losing his mind, but he started laughing. "Not as much as for mine," he gasped out, bent almost double with hysterical laughter that he couldn't seem to stop.

He buried his face in his hands, still gasping around laughter that was threatening to turn to tears at any moment. There was a tiny squeak of sound, and then a lock of his hair was being tugged. Looking up, he realized that Clint had it in his beak, pulling it gently, the same way that he sometimes pulled on Bucky's ponytail.

"Yeah," he said, laughter gradually dying away and letting him catch his breath. "This really sucks."

"It does," Steve said, one of his hands coming down on Bucky's shoulder. "But we'll get it figured out."

Tony stepped over to the window, which with a gesture darkened and turned into a screen. On the screen were two dates, each with a list of coordinates. The first date was in about three months, and the second was almost two years later. "Here are the next two full solar eclipses and where we'll be able to see them from."

Bucky stared at the screen, willing more dates to appear, or for the first one to be sooner. "You're kidding, right? We're stuck like this for three months or more?"

"That's assuming that Loki is actually following the Ladyhawke script," Tony said soberly. "He's already deviated substantially by having you each able to remember who you are in your animal forms."

"He said... he said something about wishing us luck about standing in front of him together," Bucky said, straining to remember everything about the evening before. "So I _think_ that part is still the same."

Tony nodded. "Well, we've got messages out to a few magic users to see if they can come help. So far, Wanda has replied that she will be here tomorrow, and Doctor Strange said that he's following up some leads about Mordo, and he'll be in touch when he can. Jane's also reaching out to Thor to see if we can get Heimdall here to check you out, but that might also take a few days."

"Okay, so what is there for us to do?" Bucky asked, unsurprised when Steve pushed to the front again. 

"Well, we need each of you to make a decision. Until we solve this, if there's a fight, whether it happens during night or day, we're down a sniper. The question is, do we leave whoever's not human behind? If not, then we need to do some training to figure out how to best use your abilities to the team's advantage, which means a lot more training."

Bucky ran his hand down Clint's back. "Hey, darlin," he said softly. "Up to you - I'm in, human or animal, but only you can make that decision for you. Do you want to fight if you're an actual bird?"

Clint turned to face him and gave a full-throated scream. Bucky scratched him on the side of his head, and then looked back to Steve. "We're in either way," he said, voice firm.

"Thought you'd say that," Tony said, waving his hand towards the screen. The list of dates and locations disappeared, replaced by blueprints. "Obviously, Barton isn't going to be able to fire his bow when he's in hawk form, but I worked on this last night. He could bring a whole new meaning to 'eyes in the sky'. These is a direct interface with FRIDAY that would let her see anything that he looks at. It should be light enough not to interfere with his flight, and if he looks at something for more than three seconds, FRIDAY will immediately start crunching data to see what needs to be relayed to the rest of the team."

Spreading his wings, Clint flapped them twice, and then took off. He came to a clumsy landing on Tony's shoulder. Tony winced at the sudden weight, but smiled when Clint turned to preen a lock of his hair. 

Bucky chuckled. "Looks like Clint likes the idea," he said. "What else do you have?"

"Since a lot of our fights go on for hours, we want you to carry each other's gear," Steve said. "So that if the switch happens in the middle of the fight, you're each still armed. And Tony has come up with a harness for you to wear as a wolf, that will let one of the flyers get you from a perch down to the ground if we need you there."

The idea of wearing a harness like that made Bucky flinch a little. He knew that it would be as far from the stuff that HYDRA had used on him as possible, but still, just the idea was stressful. But if he needed it to stay in the field and watch Steve's and Clint's backs, he'd do it.

Steve knew it, too, giving him a sympathetic smile.

Bucky shot him a dirty look, then sighed. There was no reason for him to get mad at anyone in the team - it wasn't their fault that Loki was an asshole. "I think maybe Clint and I should go to the gym," he said instead, wanting to hoard as much time as he could with him, regardless of his form. "He needs to practice flying before he has to do evasive maneuvers."

"We can all - " Natasha started to say.

"No!" Bucky yelled, and then he took a deep breath and said, "No, I think right now it should be just the two of us." He was proud that his voice was almost steady. "I'm sure Clint won't have much trouble, but just in case, it's not fair for him to be embarrassed about it in front of all of you."

"It's _Clint_," Natasha said. "He does ten embarrassing things before breakfast."

"It's one thing when it's his choice, Natasha," Steve said, surprisingly stepping in on Bucky's side. "It's another when he's had no say over something that was done _to_ him."

Natasha nodded, but Bucky couldn't help but note the shadows under her eyes, and it reminded him that Clint was as important to her as Steve was to him. He'd have to encourage him to spend time with her when he was in human form. In the meantime... "Clint - " he called softly.

Clint turned on Tony's shoulder and launched himself clumsily into the air, Tony ducking out of the way of his wing. He hit Bucky's shoulder hard, his talons skidding over the metal of his shoulder, but he managed to grab hold of the plates and stabilize before Bucky could do more than start to reach up. 

"Yeah, we need practice," Bucky said, as if it wasn't completely obvious. "All of you, out. I need to clean up, feed both of us, and then we're going to the gym. You guys stay out for now. Tonight, when I'm back to being a wolf, we can get together to see how I'd be most useful in a fight."

The team looked to Steve as one, and it took everything Bucky had not to snap at them. Steve was the leader - it wasn't surprising that they'd look to him.

Steve's eyes were steady on Bucky's face for a long second, and then he gave a slow nod. "Fair enough. Have Clint comm us when... when he changes back, and we'll meet you down there."

Then everyone left as quickly as they arrived, with Natasha pausing just long enough to run a finger over Clint's head. Once everyone was gone, Bucky rubbed his free hand over his face and took a moment to collect himself before he pulled himself up. Time to get moving. Clint wasn't going to learn evasive flight in their room.

The day went quicker than expected, with Clint showing a remarkable ability to learn and adapt to having wings instead of arms. Before the afternoon had passed, he was dodging the low-powered paintballs that Bucky was shooting at him. FRIDAY gave a soft beep - her version of clearing her throat - and then said, "Sergeant Barnes. Sunset will be in five minutes. It would probably be best if Agent Barton was on the ground when that occurred."

Bucky closed his eyes, swallowing down his pain at the situation. That meant he wasn't braced at all when Clint came to land on his shoulder, but the weight was almost comforting in its presence. He turned his head and pressed a kissed against Clint's feathers, before holding out his arm so that Clint could sidle down it and come to rest on the nearby balance beam.

"I love you," he said, knowing that it was something that he could never say often enough. Then FRIDAY said, "Gentlemen," and Bucky was already starting to shrink, to twist, and then he was on all fours on the floor, looking up at Clint, who was sitting on the balance beam in last night's clothing.

"I love you, too," Clint said, and Bucky trotted over to press his nose to Clint's knee. This _sucked_.

***

Clint half-expected the team to arrive as soon as the switch completed, but the only person who came in was Natasha. "Clint," she said, and Clint could read some of the pain that she was hiding in that simple word. If he could do that, she was having an even harder time with this than he'd expected. She normally only gave away what she wanted.

"Hey, Nat," he said. "So, where's everyone else? I thought we were going to practice integrating Bucky tonight?"

"Everyone else is in the situation room," she said, her voice grave.

"I didn't hear an alarm," Clint said, trying to stay calm.

Natasha grimaced. "We asked FRIDAY to silence it in here until we knew what was going on," she said. "I've been sent to give you both options."

"So, what's going on?"

"The Wrecking Crew have been spotted hanging around outside the Baxter Tower. Normally we'd let the Fantastic Four handle it, given the... situation," she said delicately. "But Richard and Sue are in Europe right now, and Johnny reached out, asking for our assistance. You don't have to come if you don't want, but you're both adults, and we didn't want to leave you behind without talking to you first."

She grimaced and then added, "I have to admit, we're down Sam right now - he's trying to get here from Queens, but the police have the area cordoned off and he doesn't have his wings. Plus Bruce won't fight in the city unless there's no choice, so we really need at least one of you."

Clint could feel the way that Bucky was practically vibrating against his knee. He knew that in his normal form, Bucky would be dying to get another try at Wrecker, but right now... "Has Tony come up with some sort of armor for Bucky in this form?" he asked. "He's going to have to be on the ground to be useful."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "As if there was any doubt. All Tony has done today is design for the two of you."

"Has he slept in the last forty-eight hours?" Clint asked. A sleep-deprived Tony wouldn't be helpful either.

"Let us worry about that," Steve said from the door, already in his gear.

Natasha turned, a frown on her face. "You were going to let me handle this."

"We've got to move," he said, obviously unrepentant. "They're trying to breach the doors to the building and those will only hold up for so long."

Before Clint could say something, anything, Bucky gave a single sharp bark. He was quivering where he was pressed up against Clint's leg, and that made up Clint's mind. The Wrecking Crew were strong but not particularly bright. If there was someone to test whether they were up to fitting in with the team, they were the best option. "Okay, let me get my gear. Bucky, go with Natasha and see what Tony has for you. Meet you at the jet in five."

Bucky barked again, and then was out the door fast enough that Natasha had to practically run to keep up with him.

"You okay?" Steve asked.

Clint swallowed down his bitterness and his fear, flashed a grin at Cap, and said, "Never better. Why would you even ask?"

Steve opened his mouth, and then shut it again without saying anything. Clint found himself grateful for the reprieve. "My equipment is on the jet," Clint said, pushing off the balance beam. "Let me get changed. Can you fetch Bucky's gun and armor in case this goes all night?"

Nodding, Steve headed out of the gym. Clint took a second to breathe and followed.

The situation at the Baxter building was pretty much what Clint had expected going in. The Wrecking Crew were trying to break down the front doors, while dodging attacks from Johnny. Ben was holding the door shut from inside, bracing them against Piledriver, who was beating against it with his oversized fists. Even with Ben bracing it, the door was slowly being forced inwards.

He could see that the NYPD had cleared the area of civilians already, leaving the road free for him to land the quinjet. Tony had already joined Johnny in trying to engage the rest of the Crew, and the rest of the team left the jet quickly. Bucky, wearing armor that wouldn't have looked out of place in a medieval manuscript, paused at the door to give a bark, and then it was just Clint in the jet. 

There was a building across the street with a roof large enough for Clint to park the jet on it, so he headed up there. As soon as the jet was shut down, he grabbed his bow and headed out to see what the situation was.

And walked right into the younger Bulldozer. _Fuck_. He got his bow up in time to block her first punch, thankful that it was her and not her father. "Hey guys, I got a situation up here!" he yelled into the comms as he dodged her next blow and tried to put the plane between the two of them. 

"Sitrep," Cap barked into the comm, and Clint continued to dodge as he tried to get some space to pull an arrow.

"Bulldozer brought his daughter," he said. "I guess I've used this building one time too many."

"On it," Iron Man said, and within a few seconds he was at rooftop level, repulsors pointed at her. "Stand down, Marci," he said, his voice barely distorted by the speakers. "There's no way this is going to end in any way that's good for you otherwise."

She ignored him, focusing her attention on Clint, stalking after him. Clint knew that that was not going to work well for her - Tony didn't take well to being ignored at the best of times. A repulsor blast hit the roof just in front of her, causing her to pause and giving Clint the break he needed to get one of the glue arrows out of his quiver, onto his bow, and shoot.

It hit her right in the chest, exploding into a gluey mess that covered her from shoulders to knees. She continued to try to push through it, trying to get at Clint, but the glue had been developed by Tony for almost exactly this kind of situation, and dried quickly into a mass that gave just enough to allow her to keep breathing, but unable to maintain her forward momentum. She dropped to her knees, growling softly. "You're dead meat, Hawkeye," she said as stayed there.

"Well, that wasn't ominous at all," Tony said, coming in for a landing next to Clint. "Seem a little targeted to you?"

Marci was still growling and struggling against the glue holding her immobile. It had been tested against Thor, though, and she wasn't going to be able to break free any time soon. "Yeah, a little bit," Clint said, but before he could say anything else, Cap called through the comm.

"Iron Man, we need you down here. Clint, eyes on!"

Tony slapped Clint on the shoulder - ow, metal gauntlets - and flew off. Clint skirted Marci carefully and stepped to the edge of the building to see what was going on. 

"Anyone have any idea how these assholes got loose from the Raft again?" Natasha asked the comms as she sidestepped the senior Bulldozer. He hit the side of the building, barely denting it, before whirling to face her. She shot him in the face with her Widow's Bites. Last time he'd been able to shake it off almost immediately, but Clint knew that Tony had messed with the voltage. This time it left him looking dazed.

Cap was facing off against Wrecker, dodging his crowbar and driving his fists into the villain's side every time he got close enough. "Cap, you got Thunderball coming up behind - " Clint started, but then Bucky got in close, grabbing a mouthful of Thunderball's thigh and pulling backwards.

His teeth didn't apparently break skin, given the lack of bleeding, but it did turn Thunderball's attention away from Cap. Unfortunately, it turned it right to Bucky, who was wearing untested armor. "Iron Man," Clint said tightly into the comm. "Do you see this?"

"Yeah," Tony said, but before he could get into position to interfere, Bucky had charged Thunderball, going in under his swinging ball and biting him again, this time on the front of his thigh.

Clint wasn't sure if there was less armor there or what, but the cloth of his pants immediately started turning red with a quickly spreading stain. Bucky shook his head hard, and Thunderball dropped - first his weapon, then himself. His lips were moving, but Clint couldn't hear him, and he didn't have a good angle to read it clearly.

Cap was slowly giving ground to Wrecker, and Natasha was still facing down Bulldozer. Tony flew in, hitting him hard and driving him back a few steps, giving Natasha some breathing space. Clint thought about another glue arrow, but he wasn't sure that it would hold from this distance. 

Johnny Storm was buzzing Piledriver, trying to distract him from breaking through the doors, but he was more single-minded than usual, the doors starting to crack and bend inwards. Ben was still pushing up against them from the inside, but he was being pushed back slowly as well. 

A shadow passed over Clint, and he glanced up to see storm clouds gathering rapidly. "Heads up, guys - looks like we have a Thor incoming," he said into the comm.

"Acknowledged," Cap said, but he sounded strained. 

There was a flash of lightning and a crack of thunder, and then Thor was standing on the ground, a few feet away from the melee. 

Wrecker looked up from his attempt to overtake Cap, and changed directions immediately, charging headlong at Thor. Clint took advantage of the moments where he was free and clear of anyone else to pull an explosive arrow and plant the thing right into Wrecker's chest. It exploded on impact, knocking him to the ground.

It wasn't strong enough to kill Wrecker - Cap's standing policy was not to kill the Crew unless it was them or someone else - but it gave Cap enough time to kick away his crowbar. Then Thor was there, dropping Mjolnir onto Wrecker's chest, pinning him in place. 

While that was happening, Thunderball was slowly climbing back to his feet, and this time when Bucky attacked, he got kicked in the side, throwing him back about ten feet. "Cap!" Clint yelled into the comm, panicking when Bucky was slow to get back up.

Cap and Thor exchanged looks, and then Cap charged Thunderball while Thor turned his attention to Piledriver, pushing him away from the door with sheer bulk. Without Mjolnir, Thor couldn't call the lightning, but with Piledriver no longer trying to break down the door, Ben came through, and the two of them started bouncing him between them, taking turns beating the crap out of him.

Cap and Widow were teamed up on Thunderball, while Bucky slowly got to his feet. Clint could see that he was growling, but before he could charge back into the melee, Iron Man dove in, hooking a hand through the harness that Bucky was wearing, and pulling him into the air.

Within seconds, he was next to Clint, setting Bucky down gently. Before Clint could acknowledge him, he was gone, and the fight was turning, Johnny teaming up with Cap and Widow, Iron Man teaming up with Thor and Ben, and then it was all over but the tears as the members of the Wrecking Crew were being secured.

His hands clenched on the bow as he fought the urge to rush over and check on Bucky. Keeping his eyes focused on the fight, he waited until everyone was cuffed, and Iron Man was back up on the roof, checking on Marci. Only then did he turn to face Bucky, ignoring the chatter coming through the comms.

Bucky was standing stiffly next to him, but he _was_ on his feet. He was panting, but it didn't seem strained, and when Clint set his bow down, he came close, nosing at Clint's gloved hand. "You okay?" Clint asked, and then immediately felt stupid, because, wolf, dummy.

But Bucky gave a single bark, and that reminded Clint that they _had_ worked out a way to answer yes/no questions. "That was a pretty hard kick. You sure your ribs are good?"

There was a bark, a slight pause, and then a much quieter bark. "Yeah, that's what I thought," Clint said. "Let's get you on the jet. Need to call in for transport for the Crew anyway."

Cap's voice came through the comm. "We've already done that," he said. "Iron Man, bring down Bulldozer Junior. Clint, take Bucky back to the tower and to medical. We'll get back to the tower without the 'jet."

"You sure no one else was injured?" Clint asked, torn. He didn't want to abandon his team, but god only knew what injuries Bucky was hiding inside untested armor.

"We're good. Go," Natasha said, and that was all Clint needed. He waited until Iron Man had hooked Marci under the arms and airlifted her down to the street before chivvying Bucky on board. It only took him a few minutes to power up the jet, and only a couple of more to get back to Avengers tower.

Medical was waiting at the landing pad, with a large stretcher. Bucky took one look and gave two barks, but Clint was over this. He turned to look at Bucky, making his eyes as soft as he could. "Come on, Bucky. Until we know you don't have broken ribs, go for the ride."

Bucky started to inhale as if to bark, and then winced. He closed his eyes, let out his breath slowly, and then turned and headed to the jetway, letting the medical team carefully lift him up on the stretcher and lying down on his side as they rolled him away.

Clint paused just long enough to change out of his tac vest and into the sweatshirt he kept on the jet, locked up his bow and quiver, and then followed.

By the time he got to the medical suite, they'd gotten the armor off Bucky, and he was lying still on the table for the x-ray table. "Are you guys going to be able to actually do anything for him?" he asked the nurse outside the room.

She nodded. "Mr. Stark has already arranged for us to consult with a vet. Given that he's moving under his own power, unless he needs some sort of emergency surgery, this is mostly cautionary until we know if the injuries carry over to when Sergeant Barnes is human again."

"Wait - who the hell told you?" Clint was going to murder whoever it was, slowly. They didn't need to give anyone else the information that the team wasn't at its best.

She seemed to realize that she had stepped on a landmine, and held up her hands, trying to calm him down. "Mr. Stark read in a certain number of the medical staff - just me, one other nurse, and two of the doctors," she said, and now that she mentioned it, Clint realized that there were a lot fewer people around than normal. "But he was afraid that if he didn't, one of you would get injured and we wouldn't be prepared."

Clint could feel himself deflate slightly. He still didn't _like_ it, but Tony had probably been right. "Fine," he said, returning his attention to the x-ray room. The other nurse was helping Bucky jump down, and so Clint stepped inside the room, making sure that Bucky could see him.

Bucky walked over gingerly, and Clint crouched down to press his forehead to Bucky's. There wasn't much he could say right now other than he was sorry, and if he started saying that he'd never stop.

Dr. Martin came up behind Bucky and cleared his throat quietly. Clint had seen his feet approaching, but Bucky jumped, and then flinched. "Good news," he said calmly. "Sergeant Barnes, it doesn't appear that you have anything _broken_. You do have a couple of hairline cracks in your ribs, but they should heal without any problem, as long as you don't get punched again. Until they do, though, you know that they're a weak point."

Bucky gave one bark. 

"The vet Mr. Stark has on retainer has given us a list of painkillers that it should be safe to give you. I know how much you hate them, but can I convince you to take one of the mild ones, at least for tonight?"

Bucky barked twice, but Clint tugged gently on his fur. "Bucky?" he asked quietly. "You'll rest better."

Bucky barked twice again. The look he was giving Clint was distinctly stubborn, and Clint sighed. "No go, doc. If he changes his mind, I'll bring him back."

"No need." As Clint stood back up, the doctor pressed a small bottle into his hand. "Just give him one of these. They're about as strong as ibuprofen, but none of you are good about taking painkillers."

"No, I guess we're not," Clint admitted. "Thanks again, Doc. Bucky, you ready to go home?"

A single bark.

As Clint turned to leave medical, the rest of the team arrived, Clint ran his eyes over each of them, noticing bruises and abrasions but no real injuries. "You guys here to be cleared?"

"Yeah," Tony said. "What's the verdict for four-legged, there?"

"Couple of cracked ribs. He's down until they're healed, and even then, I'm not sure that it's a good idea for him to go back out like this," Clint said. Bucky grabbed hold of his pants and tugged, _hard_ but Clint ignored him. It had been hard enough to watch once. He didn't know if he could do it again.

"That's his choice," Steve said simply. "We'll talk to him about it when he's in his normal form again."

Clint frowned, but Bucky nipped at his hand, and all Clint could do was sigh. Steve was right. It didn't mean he liked it, though.

"You get cleared?" Steve asked, and Clint could admire the way that he changed the subject. 

"Nah. I wasn't really in the thick of it," Clint said, but he knew it was too late even as he said it. Steve's disappointed look was enough, and he went back into medical.

FRIDAY said, "Don't worry, Agent Barton. I'll make sure that Sergeant Barnes gets back to your apartment." Giving up the fight, he settled on his normal bed.

As they each sat on a separate cot, he had a thought. "Anyone catch what Thunderball said to Bucky?"

Natasha and Steve exchanged a _look_, and Clint knew before they even opened their mouths that they were going to lie. "The truth, guys. He's going to tell me tomorrow anyway."

They gave matching grimaces, and then Steve said, "Yeah, I heard him. He said something along the lines of 'Still some fight in you, Barnes?'. I'm sure..." his voice trailed off.

Oh, this was a nightmare. If the Crew knew, then god only knew who else did. Clearly this was part of Loki's revenge too. "So, the supervillians know is what you're telling me."

Steve's mouth twisted, but it was Natasha that answered him. "Looks that way, Clint. We'll have a better plan next time."

"Right." He looked at the doctor who was fussing over the abrasion on his knuckles from punching Marci. "It's fine, doc. Am I clear to go?"

The doctor nodded. "I'll be in our quarters," Clint said to the room at large. "I'll make sure Bucky comes down for breakfast in the morning."

When he got to the apartment, Bucky was stretched out on the couch, asleep. Clint stopped short, not wanting to wake him when he was comfortable enough to do that, but he couldn't just hover in the doorway all night, either. Then Bucky shifted, and it must have pulled at his cracked ribs, because he whimpered and woke up, falling off the couch.

"Ow," Clint said, hurrying in and over to Bucky, who was glaring at him. "Hey, it's not my fault you fell," he added. Bucky barked at him, and then licked his hand. Clint knew that they needed to talk about what he'd found out, but he needed some time to just process for a few minutes. Instead, he asked, "You hungry?" 

Bucky barked again, and then grabbed his pant leg in his mouth and started tugging towards the kitchen. "Okay, okay, I get it," Clint said, laughing a little. "I guess we _have_ been going all day. I need to eat too. Let's see what's in the refrigerator."

Opening the door, he was so, so grateful to be living in Tony's tower, because the refrigerator had been fully stocked with various kinds of meat at some point during the day. "Pretty sure all you want is meat, but you got your pick," he said, opening the door wide enough for Bucky to stick his head inside. "Steak, chicken, fish," he paused to pick up a package, "and apparently buffalo. Probably Stark thinking he's funny, but I bet it would taste pretty good to you."

Bucky sniffed the package, and then barked once. "Buffalo, it is," Clint said, He had to remind himself that this was _Bucky_, not some random dog, and that he actually understood Clint. Grabbing down a plate, he dumped out the steak on it and looked at it a second. "This is awful big, Buck. Want me to cut it into pieces for you?"

Two barks, so Clint shrugged and set it on the floor on the other side of the kitchen. For himself, he pulled out one of the TV dinners from the freezer. They weren't commercially available, instead being made by the chefs in one of the building's restaurants specifically for the Avengers, but they _were_ fast. Heating it up only took a minute, and then he carried it over to the kitchen table.

Bucky was still eating his steak, but well over half of it was gone and it looked like he'd started to slow down. By the time Clint finished his own meal, Bucky's was gone too, and it only took a minute to do the dishes. No point in putting off this conversation any longer.

He headed towards the living room, Bucky trotting at his heels, and when he sat down on the sofa, Bucky jumped up as well, lying down with his head on his paws, his eyes studying Clint. "Do you remember what Thunderball said to you?"

One bark.

"Bulldozer Junior seemed to be specifically targeted to me. Tony tell you that?" Clint looked at his hands, rather than at Bucky's large brown eyes.

A bark and a whine.

"I'm thinking that Loki did more than curse us." Clint cleared his throat and then continued. "I'm thinking he let the local supervillian population know about us, because as a wolf or as a hawk, we're much easier targets."

Silence.

Clint looked up, and the pain he saw in Bucky's eyes mirrored what was in his own chest. "We can't stay here if it means it turns the rest of the team into targets, can we?"

Bucky huffed out a breath, and then gave two small, sad barks.

"You know, I'm glad you remember who you are," Clint whispered. "Because I can still talk to you. But right now I could really use a hug."

Bucky crept forward, his front paws covering Clint's hand, and he gave his arm a quick lick. "Yeah, I know," Clint said, scratching behind Bucky's ears with his other hand. "So, what - we've got Wanda coming in a few hours, and if she can't fix us, and if no one else can until the eclipse, maybe we should go somewhere else until then?"

The next bark was even quieter, and it made Clint want to cry. Then he met Bucky's eyes, and he couldn't stop the tears. Not even when Bucky licked them away.

***

The next morning, Bucky woke up on the couch again, Clint sitting on the arm and looking at him. He had to blink a couple of times for the previous night to come into focus, but when it did, he had to gasp at the pain lancing through him. It was all emotional, though - his ribs didn't hurt at all.

"Maybe Wanda will have a solution?" he said hopefully. Clint turned his head sideways, still looking at him, but didn't even bother to make a sound. "Yeah, I doubt it too."

"Gentlemen," FRIDAY said. "Now that you're awake, Captain Rogers wants you to know that Ms. Maximoff and Dr. Strange are both here and on the common floor. Additionally, Thor has sent a message to Heimdall and he is expected within the hour."

Bucky reached out and scratched the feathers on the side of Clint's head. "Tell them we're awake," he said. "And that we'll be up when I've had a chance to shower and eat. Figure a half hour or so."

"Yes, Sergeant Barnes." 

Bucky snorted a little in amusement to himself, only to have Clint give a small squawk. "It's just funny," he said. "FRIDAY is so rude to Tony, and so polite to everyone else. It's like he programmed her to take him down a peg."

Bucky didn't know that hawks could nod. They apparently could, though. That was good to know. He hauled himself off the couch. "I smell like dog," he said. "I'm going to shower. You want to stay out here?"

In answer, Clint took off, flying to the door of the bathroom, twisting as he went through, landing on the edge of the sink. "Well, that answers that," he said, and went to make himself presentable.

After oatmeal for himself and some chopped up rabbit for Clint, the two of them headed to the common area. The entire team was assembled in the room, which went silent as the elevator door opened. A little self-consciously, he left the safety of the elevator and walked in. "Morning?" he said. Clint gave one of the silly little cries and took off from his shoulder, coming to land on Wanda's shoulder, causing her to stagger a little under his weight. When she had recovered her balance, he turned his head and tugged on a lock of her hair.

"Hello, birdbrain," Wanda said, then blushed. "Maybe now, not so funny. We will fix it."

Dr. Strange stood up from the chair he was sitting in. "We will try, at any rate," he agreed. There was a flash of light outside the window, and then a man who had to be Heimdall was standing on Tony's landing platform, being met by Thor. 

Bucky took a deep breath. "Whatever you can do," he said. "We're no good to the team like this."

That got an outcry from the whole team, just so much noise that he couldn't even start to filter it out. Clint took off from Wanda's shoulder and landed on Bucky's shoulder, mantling his wings and crying loudly, which had the effect of getting everyone to shut up, thank god.

"Well, before we jump to that conclusion, let's see what the magic users have to say," Steve said. 

"Yeah, okay," Bucky said. "How do you want us?"

Just then, Thor came in with Heimdall, and there was a round of introductions. "I am most sorry that Loki has caused this," Heimdall said, bowing a little towards Bucky and Clint. "He should not have been able to escape from Asgard's prison, but we believe he had assistance. Right now, I can tell you he is not on Midgard, nor on Asgard. With a little time, however, I believe I should be able to find him."

"Can you bring him here?" Tony asked, his eyes hard.

"That is more difficult," Heimdall admitted. "My magic is of the finding, not the retrieving. But there are others here who might make it of no importance?"

"Right," Dr. Strange said, clapping his hands together and apparently taking that as his and Wanda's cue. "Ms. Maximoff, do you wish to start?"

"Thank you, Dr. Strange," she said, coming forward. "This will not hurt, but it might feel odd," she said directly to Bucky. "Please don't panic - I am just trying to read traces that Loki might have left behind."

When Bucky nodded, she raised her hands, placing them to either side of Clint and Bucky. A fine red mist rose from them, and it took a great deal of willpower to not flinch away. He knew what she was capable of. If he had a choice, no one who had the ability to play the kinds of head games she was so good at would ever come near him. Right now he only had her promise, and Clint's trust, that she wouldn't use them to hurt them further. 

She hadn't been lying about a strange sensation, though. It felt like someone was causing an itch on the _inside_ of his skin, and from the way that Clint was shifting, it wasn't particularly pleasant for him, either. 

After several minutes, she lowered her hands, the mist disappearing. "Well?" Bucky demanded.

"Let us see what Dr. Strange finds out first," she said. Bucky felt like she was hiding what she found, and it made him want to shake her. But the rest of the team would object, so instead he turned to face the man.

Dr. Strange's magic was much more showy, all wavy hands and glowing circles, but at least that weird itch was gone. 

After he was finished, the three magic users excused themselves, Wanda saying that they needed to compare their findings. While they talked in the corner, Steve urged Bucky to sit on the sofa, next to Natasha. She wrapped one hand around his upper arm, and scratched Clint's head with the other. "We'll find a way," Steve said. "No matter what."

Bucky focused on the three people who were going to be able to tell him whether or not this was fixable, but they were speaking quietly enough that he couldn't hear more than just a bare murmur. They had to have a solution. They just _had_ to.

It could have been five minutes or an hour before the three of them came back, Dr. Strange stepping to the front. "Well, we're not going to waste our time telling you what you already know. There is good news. We believe that this spell _is_ breakable, and we don't think that we need to wait for the next eclipse. What we _do_ need is Loki, back here on Earth."

"Heimdall has agreed to continue to search for signs of him. As soon as we know where he is, between Ms. Maximoff and myself, we should be able to compel him to return. However, we are in agreement that you must be very careful that neither of you get killed - it will curse the other to remain in animal form for the rest of their life."

Bucky let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Right. This could be fixed. They just needed to stay alive to do it. With god only knew how many supervillians gunning for them. _Shit_.

He didn't realize he was clenching his fist until Steve's hand came down on it, squeezing it gently, only letting go when Bucky relaxed slightly. "Okay. Okay. We can do this," he said. 

Wanda pushed past Dr. Strange to crouch down in front of him, her hands held out to her sides as if she was trying to appear harmless. "Bucky, we can fix this. I can promise you that. It just may take longer than you wish." Wanda's accent allways caused him to twitch - it was similar enough to some of the senior Hydra agents that he'd dealt with that it vaguely bothered him.

"Unless you can go back in time and keep from happening, it's already taken longer than I want," Bucky said, knowing his voice was snippy and not caring. He was angry and terrified and all he really wanted to do was go down to the gym and blow off some steam. Hitting something - or some_one_ \- sounded like a great idea.

"Bucky," Steve said, his voice low and soft. There was obvious concern, but right now Bucky really couldn't have cared less. "Bucky, we'll keep you both safe."

He couldn't help it, he snorted. Right. Safe. "What are you going to do? Lock us here in the tower? That didn't stop Loki from coming last time - what's to stop him from magicking someone else in?"

Steve opened his mouth to say something, but Bucky didn't care. He bulldozed right over him. "Look, maybe Clint and I should leave town until Loki is located. Just keep moving until you call us back."

"No, Buck," Steve said, his face pinched and tight. "That's not - "

"Actually, that may be a very good idea," Dr. Strange said. "Ms. Maximoff and I should certainly be able to shield you from easy discovery, and if you stay on the move, it probably _is_ safer than staying here."

"Are you saying my tower isn't safe?" Tony jumped in, anger clear in his voice.

"They were _in_ your tower when this happened, Stark," Steve shouted, and suddenly the two of them were squaring off.

Just like that, Bucky could see what was happening here. This wasn't just a punishment for Clint - this was a punishment for all of the Avengers. If Tony and Steve started fighting, they'd drag everyone else into it, whether they wanted to be there or not. Gently disengaging from Natasha's hand, he hefted Clint up and onto her lap before climbing to his feet and pushing between the two of them.

"Hey!" he shouted. "That's enough!"

The two of them backed off, but Steve's nostrils were flaring, his fair skin flushed dark red. Tony's fists were clenched, and he was leaning in like he could make himself as big as Steve if he just tried hard enough.

"That's it. Loki is using this situation to get to you guys too. We can't let him do that," Bucky said, making a concentrated effort to lower his voice and sound calmer than he felt.

Surprisingly, it was Steve who deflated first, his shoulders coming down as he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Sounds like the bastard," he grated out. "Sounds _just_ like him."

Thor came over to stand beside Steve. "My brother has always been so," he said, "sowing discord when he could not physically win." His voice was sad, but Bucky had no pity for him, quite frankly. The man's brother was a psychopath.

Turning around, he held out his left arm for Clint, who stared at him for a long moment before stepping onto it, his talons digging into the leather of his jacket. "Clint, do you agree that we should get out of here?"

There was a moment of hesitation, and then Clint bobbed his head in an unmistakable nod. That settled Bucky, made him actually _think_ about how to make this work, burning away the anger and frustration.

"Okay, I'm going to take Clint and go get us packed for a couple of weeks of road tripping. Stark?" He turned to face Tony. "Is there a car that we can borrow that won't make us stand out?"

Tony grimaced. "Not in my personal collection, but Stark industries has a whole fleet at the factory in Albany. We could get you there in the quinjet in just a few minutes."

"Okay, so I guess this road trip is starting upstate. Strange, Wanda, do you need us here to cast whatever protections you can do?"

The two of them looked at each other, and then Strange looked back at him. "I do, but it will take about ten minutes. I believe Ms. Maximoff is the same, but we should cast one after another so as not to interfere with each other."

Bucky bit his lip. Twenty minutes. They could spare twenty minutes in the plan that was forming in his head. "Okay - we'll get started on those in a second. Steve, I need you to go to the corner store and get us a burner phone. Only you, Stark, and Strange should have the number, and you should only call it when they're ready to try and pull Loki here."

Steve was starting to look a little pale, and Bucky felt guilty. He knew that Steve hated having him out of sight, and him not knowing where Bucky and Clint were going to be was pretty much torture. But what they didn't know, they couldn't tell - or even think about.

He met Steve's eyes evenly, and after a second, Steve nodded and headed out of the common room. At Stranges' urging, he sat back down, Clint in his lap. Closing his eyes, he let the man wave his hands about, doing god knows what, and then continued to sit still even as Wanda's magic made him itch again. 

Her touch on his forearm brought him back into focus. "We are done, Bucky," she said softly. "Is not perfect, and will not withstand too much scrutiny, but should hold up for as long as we need."

Nodding, he shifted Clint to his shoulder, and stood up. "Thank you both," he said. "Hopefully this will get fixed quickly, and then Clint can make you dinner."

Wanda just squeezed his arm again, and Strange gave him a small bow before Bucky turned to head back to their apartment. They both had go-bags by the front door, but Bucky supplemented them with extra clothes and ammunition. Clint hopped up on his sniper rifle and gave a long cry before pecking at the stock.

It took him a second to figure out what might be wrong. "Fuck," Bucky muttered. "You're right. We carry those weapons, we're going to be noticed no matter what." Thankfully, both of them stuck to dressing simply and inexpensively, but he was going to be noticed for never taking his gloves off.

Bucky ran his hand through his hair. He was seeing modifications of his original plan forming in his head, but he really wished that he'd been able to run it past Clint and get his feedback. And this needed more than yes and no questions. "Do you trust me, Clint?" he asked. "I mean really trust me. I'm thinking that we're going to need to do something pretty radical to stay off the radar."

Clint gave a full throated scream, mantling his wings. 

"Was that a yes?"

Clint gave another cry, softer this time, and Bucky got busy.

He pulled out the weapons from the go bag, leaving the ammunition but no arrows. The whole time, he was mentally mapping from upper state New York to one of his old cache sites from before he came in. There should be one in Buffalo, assuming that his faulty memory wasn't playing tricks on him.

There was a knock at the door, and he called out, "Come in," as he finished tucking Clint's jacket into the duffel bag. 

Steve came in, a bag clenched in one fist. "I got this from a bodega in Queens," he said. "Figured couldn't hurt to be too careful."

"Good thinking," Bucky said, taking the bag and opening it up. It was a basic phone, still sealed in the package, with a card listing the phone number associated with it. It only took a minute to get it out and set up, quickly programming in Steve's and Starks' numbers.

Through everything, Steve watched quietly, but as Bucky tucked the phone into the duffel, he asked, "Are you sure about this?"

Bucky met his eyes. "Yeah, Steve, I'm sure. I can't risk," his throat choked up, and he had to take a second to clear it. "I can't risk us getting stuck like this. I'm trusting you guys to keep it on the downlow that we're gone, and you need you to trust that I can keep us safe."

"I trust both of you," Steve said. "You know I do."

Bucky reached out and gave him a firm hug. "You focus on keeping the stupid here, okay? We don't need it with us, that's for damn sure."

"You got it," Steve said, his voice a little choked. Bucky deliberately glanced away so that Steve could wipe his eyes. 

"So, I'm not going with you to Stark's factory, and neither is Natasha - anyone watching for the two of you would be watching for that," Steve continued after clearing his throat. "Stark's going to fly, and meet Ms. Potts there for a surprise inspection. You're cleared to take any of the cars in the motor pool already, but under the name James Delaney." He pulled a packet of papers out of his back pocket that contained fake drivers licenses for both Bucky and Clint, as well as assorted other documentation. "I have no idea why Tony had these already ready to go, but apparently there are sets for everyone on the team."

"He'd probably just say he was thinking ahead," Bucky said, putting the licenses in his and Clint's wallets and the rest of the papers in the duffel. 

"Probably," Steve said. He hesitated a moment more, as if he wanted to say something - maybe argue against the plan some more, maybe try to persuade Bucky to stay, but instead he just pounded Bucky's shoulder once more, smiled at Clint, and let himself out of the apartment.

Bucky finished packing, glanced around the apartment, and nodded to himself. It was a good thing that he'd never really believed that he'd be able to stay here forever, because this was hard enough. Glancing over to Clint, who was perched on the back of one of the dining room chairs, he realized that at least he wasn't completely alone in this. "Am I forgetting anything?" he asked.

Two soft cries met his words. Smiling - because tears were _not_ an option - he picked up the three bags with his metal arm, and then walked to Clint, lowering his other shoulder so that Clint could step up. He stayed still until Clint had gotten himself situated, and then he left, not pausing to look back.

The flight was remarkable mostly in the fact that Stark didn't say much at all. Bucky couldn't remember the man ever staying this quiet for this long before. When they landed at the factory in Albany, Stark spoke for the first time. "Let me get inside and start making a scene. There's a Stark Industries badge on the co-pilot's chair. Go in the side door and turn right to go security. Tell them that you're delivering a package, and give them the ID. They should give you access to any car you want."

Stark didn't give him a chance to respond, not that Bucky had much to say besides thank you. He counted to five hundred, slowly. "Clint, you stay here," he said, as he picked their bags back up. "I'll whistle on the way when I've got the key and you can meet me then."

Clint gave a silly little squawk, and Bucky forced a smile to his face. "Showtime, right?"

Knowing that he wasn't going to get any better response, he went to the side entrance of the factory. His card key let him inside the secure door, and security was just a few feet inside. Presenting the Stark Industries ID, he was waved towards a wall of keys. Without overthinking it, he grabbed one of them at random, signed an illegible scrawl on the security log, and headed back outside. The whole thing took less than five minutes.

As he walked to the car indicated on the key fob, he whistled [Comin' in on a wing and a prayer](https://genius.com/Four-vagabonds-comin-in-on-a-wing-and-prayer-lyrics), knowing that the lyrics were appropriate to him even if the only other person who would get it was still back in the city. Hopefully they'd have the same ultimate luck as the crew of the plane in the song.

He didn't hear Clint coming, but he sure felt the impact as he landed on Bucky's shoulder. "Oof," he said. "You know, this is giving me a whole new appreciation for that little girl in Mongolia who flies a golden eagle who was all over YouTube last year."

Clint didn't make any sound, but he did tug on a lock of Bucky's hair, which he was going to take as a good thing.

The key apparently went with a Ford Escape, which was fine. Bucky didn't intend to have it long, anyway. He loaded the bags into the back seat and waited for Clint to do his peculiar hopping walk to get to the passenger seat. Checking the time, he was surprised to see that it was only a little past eleven in the morning. Plenty of time to execute the rest of his plan, as far as he had one.

It didn't take long to get them on the road. Driving to the other side of town, he found an older model car to steal, after parking the Escape a few blocks away. Once their stuff was transferred, he tossed the key on the driver's seat, and left the door unlocked. Driving away, he stuck to a precise two miles an hour under the speed limit.

As they drove, he laid out the plan for Clint to respond to, frequently having to rephrase things so that they were yes or no questions. By the time they got to Buffalo, he thought they had a workable plan, at least in the short term. Pulling into the lot at the train station, he parked the car.

Behind the station, there were some large boulders stacked just where he remembered them. "Eyes up high?" he asked Clint, who took off from his shoulder. The force of Clint launching himself up made Bucky grunt, but as soon as he was in the air, Bucky turned his attention to the boulders.

They were made to look like they were stacked randomly, but pulling just one rock out showed a medium sized metal box, just where Bucky remembered it being. He didn't stop to index all of the contents, just grabbed the box and headed back to the car. As he opened the door, Clint flew in, landing on the passenger seat. He threw the box into the backseat and headed out.

Twenty minutes from the station, in a run down neighborhood, he pulled over and moved to the back seat. Opening the box, he was pleased to see that it was as he remembered it. A false passport under the name Frank Camp, the cash, two guns... all there. This would work

Checking the time, he realized that they didn't have time to get across the Canadian border before dark, and he was reluctant to have Clint try to do it with a wolf in the car - even though they had a fake passport for him too, thanks to Stark's paranoia.

"I'm going to get us a hotel room for the night," he said out loud. "We'll cross the border tomorrow."

Clint gave a loud cry, and Bucky reached forward to scratch his head feathers. "At least we're together, right?"

Another scream.

It was going to be a long night.

***

By the time the sun went down, the two of them were firmly ensconced in a terrible motel. Well, terrible by Clint's current standards. There was a time when this would have been a step up. At least the air conditioning worked and there weren't any obvious bloodstains on the floor. He wasn't pulling back the comforter to sleep, though.

Bucky hadn't gotten them food before he changed, so Clint grabbed some of the cash and went to the diner down the street, trying to hurry without making it obvious. The idea of leaving Bucky alone made Clint's shoulder blades itch. As soon as he had food, he hustled back to the hotel, barricading the door before setting down the three boxes of hamburgers on the floor for Bucky, and the fourth on the table for himself.

As soon as they had both eaten, he felt exhaustion settle across him like a blanket. Neither of them had been sleeping well, and he knew that sooner or later it was going to become a necessity. But without the team, with Bucky in wolf form, with no bow and only two guns that they hadn't been able to check after being stored in possibly damp conditions, there was no way he was going to get decent sleep.

But he did sit down on the bed, waiting for Bucky to jump up and curl up before curling around him. He wasn't going to sleep, but he could rest his eyes for just a little while.

He settled into the same mindset he'd used as a sniper, not quite fully alert, but able to come to that alertness immediately if there was a change in their immediate environment. That mentality let time pass without him noticing, but he became active when Bucky started to move restlessly on the bed. "Buck?" he asked.

Bucky jumped off the bed, going over to the window and nosing open the curtain. Through the filthy glass, Clint saw the faint glimmer of sunrise, and he closed his eyes. Another day of being a bird. He could do this. He didn't have a choice. 

He stood up, walking over to Bucky, trying to just touch him for a second, but between one step and the next he transformed back into a hawk.

He'd known that hawks had brilliant eyesight, and decent hearing, but he'd never realized that they saw colors that he'd never known existed until all this. It made it easy to read the exhaustion on Bucky's face, the sadness that dragged down his eyes and the corners of his mouth. And he'd never be able to describe all the colors in his eyes. 

Mantling his wings, he stretched out joints and muscles stiff from the transformation, even as Bucky did the same in human form. 

"Today we cross into Canada?" Bucky said. "You know you're going to fly over the border - there's no way the customs officials are going to miss a big-ass bird in the car."

Clint bobbed his head. He knew. He hated it. He hated this whole situation, but given that they were stuck in it, he was going to hate every second they were apart.

Flapping his wings, he flew over to the table, where there were two more boxes - extra food he'd bought the night before. He'd gotten some odd stares for asking for a raw burger, but he didn't know if hawks could digest cooked meat, and they didn't have time to experiment, or for him to go hunting. He knew that once they got off the grid, he'd have time to try, but he wasn't particularly sure he really wanted to try to eat mouse.

The car was still where they'd left it, and he settled into the passenger seat as Bucky slid behind the wheel, hot-wiring it with ease. The drive to the border crossing was quiet, roads busy with those who crossed it every day to get to and from work. They were counting on that, in fact.

Bucky stopped about a mile from the border crossing at the Peace Bridge, running his fingers over Clint's head. Clint tipped his head, pressing into the touch, letting it settle him, before Bucky opened the door and let him out.

As Bucky resumed the drive, Clint flew over the back-up of cars, sailing swiftly until he realized that he wasn't going to pick out any of the familiar landmarks from the air. Thankfully, the Fort Erie Race Track was a big place, abandoned other than a few cars that probably belonged to maintenance workers. Coming to a landing on the top of one of the light poles, he waited for Bucky to get there.

Thankfully for Clint's nerves, it only took a few minutes, and then Bucky was pulling in. No one was around to see Bucky roll to a stop, open the car door, and for Clint to dive inside.

"We're not doing that again," Bucky said, his face pale and his flesh hand shaking. "We're finding a way to stay together regardless."

Clint bobbed his head. He couldn't agree more. The time he'd spent with Bucky out of eyesight had been awful, and he didn't want to do it again either.

Settled in the passenger seat, he let Bucky drive. He knew that Bucky was taking them to a cabin he knew of off the beaten track. They'd discussed staying on the move, as far as a discussion could be had when one of them was an animal, but they were both afraid that if they stayed near people, they'd be recognized sooner rather than later. And while neither of them were great at living off the land, living off the grid was easier than a lot of people realized, especially when you had as much cash as Bucky had secreted in his stash, in both U.S. and Canadian currencies.

Clint wasn't familiar with the parts of Canada that were outside the cities, so he couldn't have told anyone where they were. They drove for several hours, stopping at several different stores to pick up a variety of shelf stable foods and charged battery packs to keep the phone on, and then Bucky pulled off on a road that Clint hadn't even noticed, barely a step up from dirt road.

The older car's shocks were put to the test as they bounced down the rutted road, and then Bucky turned again onto a lane that was hardly visible. There was a deep forest on either side, and within seconds the road they had been on had disappeared. They traveled for a few miles, and then they reached a deep dip in the road that Bucky clearly had not been expecting, given the way he stomped on the brakes. "Give me a second," he muttered, the first words he'd said in hours, before he got out of the car.

Five minutes later, he was back. "That's it. We're going to have to go the rest of the way on foot." Bucky left the door open, and Clint stretched his wings before flying out and landing on a nearby branch, watching as Bucky carefully loaded himself down with the various bags and supplies. He wished that he could help. He wished that this was a bad dream. He wished a lot of things, but in the end, when Bucky decided that he had everything he could carry, he simply waited for Bucky to set off on foot. 

Not wanting to add to the substantial weight that Bucky was carrying, he flew from tree branch to tree branch, getting ahead a hundred yards at a time, and keeping sharp ears and eyes out for anything that looked dangerous. He spotted the cabin that Bucky had talked about as the sun got low enough to cast long shadows, and he looked between Bucky and the door, belly twisting with nerves. 

Bucky set down the bags and boxes, drew one of the guns, and popped open the door, disappearing inside. Clint shifted from foot to foot anxiously as Bucky was out of sight, only relaxing when he reappeared, the gun still in his hand but pointed at the ground. Holding out his arm, he called softly, "Okay, Clint. It's all clear." Clint didn't hesitate, winging towards Bucky and coming to a landing on his forearm, talons clenching down on the leather over metal.

"Clint, do you need me to start a fire before the change?" Bucky asked, and Clint looked up, only then realizing that the sun was starting to set. "There's wood inside, enough for the night, I think. I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to leave you to get everything else in."

Clint shook his head as well as he was able and took off to land on the ground a few inches from Bucky's boots. He pressed his head against Bucky's shins, huddling in close in the hopes that at some point in the transition, he'd be able to feel Bucky as himself, if only for a moment.

Then the sun set fully, and within seconds, he was standing on his feet, Bucky sitting in front of him. Sighing, he reached out and scratched behind Bucky's ears, before setting out to start a fire and bring in the supplies. As he did it, he checked out the cabin. It was clearly a hunting cabin with not much in the way of amenities. There was running water - probably from a well - but no power. It had a propane powered stove and a galley counter, not that they were going to need it, really, a single large bed and a chair.

He'd lived rough before, but this was definitely going to be hard on both of them.

He could see the next few days... weeks... stretching out before them. They had enough food that they wouldn't need to hunt for a week or two, but given that both of their animal forms were carnivores, they were probably going to have to start that sooner rather than later. Clint had never been good with extended amounts of downtime with nothing to do. He hadn't even been able to tell Bucky to grab his Kindle.

Fire started, supplies put away, and door secured, he settled down on the camp cot and stared into the flames, Bucky sitting at his feet. "I hate this," he said, just to hear the sound of his own voice and not the cry of a hawk. "I hate not being able to touch you. I hate being away from the team. I _really_ hate Loki for doing this to us."

Bucky snuffled his muzzle against Clint's leg, as if in agreement. Clint dropped his hand to his head, not scratching or petting. Instead, he just let his hand there, resting in the rough fur on his head, and tried desperately not to think.

He woke in the same position several hours later, judging by the state of his neck. Bucky was lying down, his head on his paws, but when Clint shifted, trying to ease the cramps from the awkward location, he turned to look, whining softly in his throat. Then he eased to his feet and walked over to the door, pawing at it.

"Want out?" Clint asked, wincing at the volume of his voice. Lowering it, he said, "Should I stay up for you?" 

Bucky yipped twice, and Clint sighed. Bucky didn't do stillness any better than he did. And they'd spent most of the last two days sitting stiffly in cars, in various shapes. He opened the door, watching as Bucky prowled out into the small clearing surrounding the one room cabin. "I'm going to leave the door unlocked," Clint said softly. Bucky's ears swiveled to catch what he was saying. "I'll, uh, I'll see you later." Bucky gave a soft bark and then trotted off into the trees.

Making sure that the door was able to be opened with a push, Clint went to lie down properly. He needed to sleep.

That first night set the pattern for them. During the day, Clint perched in the trees around the cabin, keeping watch for anyone who might be looking for them. Occasionally he swooped down to catch a rabbit or squirrel, his hawk's body taking his mind past the disgust of eating raw wildlife. Several times a day, he'd make a point of flying down to where Bucky paced in front of the cabin, or napped in the open cabin.

As sunset approached, he'd come in to land, sitting next to Bucky at the small table in the corner or on the bed, and listened as Bucky told him stories from a century earlier, or made plans for what they were going to do when this was fixed. And then the sun would go down, and he'd be back to human, and Bucky would be on all fours.

They would spend time together as Clint would make a meal for himself more suited to human tastebuds, Clint talking mostly to remind himself that he could. He told Bucky about saving Natasha, and Natasha saving him in return when Coulson died. He told him about his brother, Barney, in jail in Tennessee, and how he sometimes missed the simplicity of his time in the circus.

And then Bucky would lick his hand, nuzzle his neck, and go to the door, waiting for Clint to let him out for him to do his own patrolling. Clint would settle down, and try to sleep, trying to block out the unfamiliar sounds of critters and nature, dreaming of the sounds of cars and construction and Bucky teasing him with coffee.

One day blended into each other, and Clint periodically would have to check the phone to see the date. They were to the point of having to ration out the human food, getting all of their protein from animals that they hunted in their other forms, and Clint was trying to figure out if it was safe for them to go back to the car and try to find another store to get some food.

He was studying the dwindling stores of food on the counters when the phone rang for the first time since they had fled the city. Grabbing at it, he glanced at it just long enough to make sure that he recognized the number - Steve. He answered it. "Barton," he said.

"It's Steve," came a very welcome voice. "Wanda says you two are safe. That true?"

"Yeah," Clint said, ignoring how rusty his voice was from barely talking for three weeks.

"Good, that's good," Steve said. The door opened, Bucky poking his face inside. Apparently realizing that Clint was on the phone, he trotted over, sitting down on his feet.

"What is it, Steve?" Clint asked, not wanting to beat around the bush.

Steve sounded relieved when he said, "Heimdall has located Loki. Wanda and Strange are going to attempt to pull him here tomorrow morning."

Clint blinked. The end might actually be in sight? But - "We can't get there that fast," he said, knowing he sounded a little desperate and needy and not caring in the slightest.

"Strange said that - he said he knows where you are, and can bring you here just before they summon Loki."

Bucky gave a sharp bark, and Clint said, "Hold on, Steve - let me put you on speaker so that Bucky can hear you as well." Without waiting for an answer, he changed the phone setting and put it down on the counter. "If they manage to pull him here, what good is that going to do?" Clint asked. "We're not going to be able to both be human tomorrow."

"Wanda says she thinks she can force the transformation," Steve said. "It won't hold for very long, but it should be just long enough to break the spell."

Clint blinked in silence for a second. He knew that Wanda was powerful, but Loki had millennia of practice in magic. He wasn't sure about this.

Before he could say anything, though, Bucky had reared up on his hind legs, planting both front paws on his chest and barking right in his face, a single, loud bark.

Well, Bucky's opinion was obvious. Fine. He guessed they'd just have to find a new hiding spot if this failed. "What do we need to do to be ready for Strange?" he asked.

"Just watch for a gold portal, and step through when it appears," Steve said. "I believe he's going to send it about nine or so tomorrow. We don't want to attract attention, though, so you should come through as fast as possible."

"Got it," Clint said.

"We've got this," Steve said, his voice firm and optimistic. "Just hold on a little longer, okay?"

"Sure, Cap," Clint said, and then Steve disconnected the call.

Setting the phone down carefully on the counter, Clint slid down the side of the counter until he was sitting on the floor, Bucky practically in his lap. "We're going home," he said softly. "One more night."

Bucky barked once, then licked Clint's face. Only then did Clint realize that he once again had tears running down his cheeks.

***

When the sun came up, Bucky was more rested than usual. Instead of spending the night patrolling around the cabin, he'd spent it asleep with Clint on the bed. He wasn't sure that this was actually going to be as simple as Steve seemed to think it would be, but it was something other than the holding pattern that they'd been in forever.

Instead of leaving the cabin, Clint sat on the back of the single chair and watched as Bucky cleaned up all of the trash from their stay. They'd been lucky in that no bears had been attracted to their food, and that the cabin had been abandoned for god only knew how long, but still, the habits of leaving no traces behind died hard.

By the time it was a little after eight, he had two neat bags. One was all of their stuff, and the other was all of the trash that they hadn't been able to burn or bury. By just before nine, they were out in the clearing, Clint sitting on his shoulder as he paced a path in front of the cabin.

At nine on the dot, a glowing yellow speck flashed into being, quickly growing into a hole wider than he was tall. Clint tugged on his hair, and after taking a deep breath, Bucky picked up the bags and stepped through and into the common room back at the tower.

After three weeks of near silence, the noise was deafening. The entire team was there, plus Wanda, Strange, Heimdall, and even Vision. He could hear traffic and sirens and it was all just completely overwhelming. Before he could panic, though, Clint gave a piercing scream and mantled, leaning back from Natasha, who had been reaching towards him. 

That brought him out of his confusion immediately. "No!" he all-but-shouted, pulling away. "Don't - don't touch him. It's a lot - give us a second to adjust."

Natasha pulled her hand back, her face carefully blank that made it obvious that it was an effort to hide how hurt she was. Right behind her was Steve, his arms crossed in front of his chest, pain clear in his blue eyes. Bucky couldn't deal with their pain right now, though. 

Instead, he turned his face towards Clint, bringing up his flesh hand slowly so as not to startle him, and stroked softly over the feathers on his breast, trying to soothe and calm Clint, and calm himself at the same time.

When Clint felt like he was more relaxed under his hand, he asked, "Better?"

Clint's beak dipped, and then Bucky turned his attention back to the team. "Sorry. It's been very quiet for the last few weeks. Overwhelming, you know? What do you need us to do?"

"Yeah," Steve said, and thank god, everyone else seemed willing to stay quiet for the moment. "If you... go ahead and have a seat there," he said, pointing at a loveseat turned at an odd angle in the room, a circle with various symbols drawn on the floor in front of it. "Clint needs to be on the loveseat, next to you. You should be touching, but don't have him on top of you, okay?"

Bucky didn't say that he'd give anything to feel Clint's human weight in his lap right now, even though he thought it. Instead, he followed Steve's directions, carefully stepping around the circle.

Wanda came to stand behind the loveseat, and Strange stood on the other side of the circle. "Are you ready?" Strange asked. "Once I start, if this works it's going to move very fast."

Bucky took a deep breath and nodded, reaching out his hand to rest on it on Clint's back. "We're ready," he said.

Heimdall came to stand next to Dr. Strange, one of his hands on Strange's shoulder. His eyes were closed, his face twisted in concentration, and after a few seconds, Strange's hands started to move, glowing gold strands streaming out from his fingers. They twisted and turned, pushing away from Strange and then pulling back several times, and then Strange made an odd grunting sound and said, "That's it."

The gold threads started to expand, filling the circle on the floor, forming a portal. The other side was dark, but Bucky was distracted from looking as a red mist started to rise between and around the loveseat. He glanced over his shoulder at Wanda, who had her hands outstretched, biting her lip in intense focus. 

He started to take a deep breath, and then the pain hit, intense and vivid, like nothing he'd ever felt before. It was worse than being shot, than being in Hydra's chair, than everything and anything and it was inside him and around him and he was blind and deaf to everything but the pain.

Clint's sudden scream - a scream that started as that of a hawk and spiraled up to one that was human - pulled Bucky out of the hold that the pain had. He fought to open his eyes, blinking away the red glare that blurred his vision, and Clint - _human_ Clint - was on the loveseat next to him, twisting in pain that Bucky didn't have to imagine. He dragged his hand around from Clint's back to his hand, clutching it tightly as the pain level went even higher, and then bled away, leaving both of them panting and sweating and _human_.

There was a sudden absence of sound in the room, and then the portal twisted, attracting Bucky's attention back to it. With a sensation as if his ears had just popped after being blocked for weeks, it winked out, leaving Loki standing in the circle. 

Loki was crouched in a fighting stance, his eyes darting around, and when they landed on Bucky and Clint, his lips moved. Bucky didn't hear him say anything, but he could only assume it was an attempt by Loki to cast another spell, one that was thwarted by the circle he was standing in.

Not knowing quite what to do, Bucky found himself standing up, dragging Clint up with him so that they were both standing in front of Loki. "Do we need to say anything?" Clint asked, his voice rough from screaming.

"No," Wanda said, even as Loki looked frustrated and angry. "The conditions of curse have been met. You are both standing before him, and by rules of the magic he himself cast, curse is broken." She gestured, a red mist settling over them. Bucky couldn't help the flinch, but he managed not to move otherwise. "There is no trace of it left on either of you, now."

"What is going to happen to him?" Bucky asked, tipping his head towards Loki, who had his hands out, tracing the edges of the invisible circle that he appeared to be stuck in. 

Heimdall spoke then. "I will return with him to Asgard. His allies have been identified and dealt with. He will not escape a second time."

Clint snorted. "Sure. Or I could save us all some effort and just kill him."

Heimdall inclined his head regally. "There is no one who would blame you for this, Agent Barton," he said, his voice serious. "You and Sergeant Barnes have been grievously injured by Loki's actions. However, I request your leniency for the sake of Thor. WIth the death of their mother, Loki is one of the few links he has remaining. He will not ask for himself, but I can and do speak for him in this."

Bucky watched as Clint's eyes scanned the room, and when he spotted Thor at the back of the crowd on the other side of Strange, Clint sighed. Bucky knew then that he was going to give in.

He wasn't sure that was a good idea - Loki could get free again - but in this he was going to yield to Clint. So when Clint turned to him and raised an eyebrow, Bucky just shrugged. The decision was Clint's and Bucky would respect it.

"Take him," Clint said, voice dripping with hatred and anger. "I'll give Asgard one more chance to keep him away from me. Next time, my decision'll be different."

"Just so," Heimdall said. 

Strange started to gesture again, and Bucky dismissed him from his attention, instead turning to face Clint dead-on. His hand came up to trace a line down Clint's face, from temple to chin. "Christ, I've missed you," he said.

Clint mirrored Bucky's gesture, and then dropped his hand to squeeze Bucky's shoulder. "I missed you too," he said. 

There was a sound as loud as a clap of thunder, and when Bucky blinked away the glimmer in his vision, he saw that Heimdall and Loki were gone, along with Strange's portal. The team was clustered together, much quieter than they usually were, all staring at the two of them.

As much as Bucky wanted to just grab Clint by the hand and go back to their apartment, he couldn't do that to the team. Instead he breathed deep and said, "Okay, guys, get it out of your system."

Within seconds, the two of them were surrounded by the team, all of whom seemed to feel the need to touch them both, their voices ringing in Bucky's ears. It took a few minutes for the chaos to die down, and then Tony announced, "It seems like a day for shawarma," and just like that, everything seemed like it was back to normal.

***

Three hours later, Clint was done. He was at the end of the thread of his patience, but if he had to hear about one more supervillain who had attacked thinking the team was weaker since they were down by both snipers, he was going to do something drastic.

Natasha suddenly narrowed her eyes at him, studying him in a way that he'd never thought he'd miss. "That's enough," she said, her voice firm. "I'm pretty sure the two of them need some downtime without the rest of us. We can catch up more over dinner."

There was some bitching, but when Bruce sided with Natasha, everyone else backed off. Clint wasn't willing to look a gift horse in the mouth, and signed "Thank you," at her before saying to Bucky, "I want a nap in our own bed. How about you?"

"Thought you'd never ask," Bucky said, and took Clint by the hand to lead them towards the elevator.

As soon as the elevator door slid shut, Bucky was on Clint, his mouth hot and fierce against Clint's. That was just fine with Clint, who eagerly opened up for Bucky's tongue. One of Bucky's hands was on the back of Clint's neck, and the other slid down to cup Clint's ass, pulling him in hard against Bucky's body.

Clint wasn't about to just stand there, so he let his own hands roam freely over Bucky's chest and back and ass for the few moments that it took to get to their floor. When the doors opened, he had to fight himself to disengage. Only the thought of their own bed got him to stop and step back, breaking Bucky's grip. 

He didn't let go of Bucky's hand as they both bypassed the living room entirely, headed straight for the bedroom. He halfway expected it to smell stale after being gone for so long, but clearly someone had come in and cleaned and changed the sheets, because the only thing he could smell was familiar laundry detergent and Bucky.

Bucky pulled on his hand, causing him to turn back. He pressed another kiss to Clint's mouth, and then his hands slid under Clint's shirt, pushing it up and off. 

Clint couldn't get naked fast enough. Bucky was stripping down just as fast, but Clint finished first, turning and jumping onto the bed, bouncing as he landed. Spreading his legs and holding up his arms, he said, "So, what are you waiting for?"

Bucky growled a little, and then Clint was blanketed head to toe in warm Bucky, and he couldn't help but groan. Bucky was already hard, his erection nudging up against Clint's own cock, and god, that felt _amazing_.

He wanted Bucky to fuck him, but he didn't think either one of them were going to last long enough. He hadn't even jerked off in three weeks - his sex drive just as much a victim of Loki as everything else - so when Bucky jerked his hips, rubbing against Clint's hip, Clint cried out and thrust up. "Yeah," he groaned. "Yeah."

It didn't take long for them to find the rhythm that they both liked best, rubbing and thrusting, sliding on warm, sweaty skin. Their mouths pressed together, less a kiss and more just a reassurance, and then Bucky lifted his head, letting out a deep groan as he came, the flood of come on Clint's stomach adding just that little additional slick he needed to get to his own orgasm.

Bucky collapsed back down, pressing Clint into the bed firmly, and panted in his ear. "God, that was good," he said. Clint had no answer other than a nod.

Sleep was dragging at Clint, pulling him down. For the first time since this had all happened, he didn't feel the need to fight the urge. Besides, maybe after a nap, they'd last longer than five minutes.

"Love you," he murmured sleepily into Bucky's ear.

Bucky hummed and then nuzzled his ear. "Love you too," he said, and with those words in his ears, Clint let himself fall asleep.


End file.
